that
she had answered all of his other questions without any negative consequences.
“At least it seems like it hasn’t
affected you very much. You’re here,” commented Lorenzo in reference to the
rehearsal. He thought it would be interesting for her to explain the apparent
contradiction of participating in a dance spectacle after witnessing such a
horrible event.
“The show must go on,” she said
before pausing. “Look, I’m not going to deny that I have mixed feelings. On the
one hand, I deeply regret the loss of a partner who appreciated us enough to
invite us into his house to share and enjoy wine for a little while. But on the
other hand, I feel relieved that our job will be much easier from here on out. Everyone
knows that Pedroza was not easygoing in the office. I hate thinking and feeling
this way. I don’t like it. Certainly the others will feel something similar,
especially Javier.”
“Javier Estrada?” asked Lorenzo,
looking at his note sheet. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s one of the vice-presidents.
Now he’s heralded as the favorite to be named as the new president. Actually,
he’s acting as interim president as we speak. It looks like his dream has come
true. Certainly not in the way he imagined, though.”
“Another happy mourner?” said
Lorenzo with a measure of poorly directed sarcasm that clearly did not sit well
with Jessica.
“Don’t say that, please. Don’t say
it,” pleaded Jessica, shaking her head.
Luiggi interrupted the break with
applause.
“ Okay , time iz up guyz !
We continue or we be late. Jessica! Come up here!”
“Excuse me, but I should get back
to rehearsal. Anyway, that’s all I know. Frankly, I don’t think there’s any
other way to look at it. I’m sorry,” ended Jessica, getting up from the bench,
leaving Lorenzo sitting there, silent.
From there he could see how Jessica
climbed up on stage and firmly grasped Luiggi’s hands. As soon as the music
started, her face was transformed with radiant joy and her body broke out in
energetic movements to the salsa’s rhythm.
“The show must go on,” murmured
Lorenzo, sinking down in his seat.
Chapter 7
The mansion that served as the residence for Javier Estrada,
the recently named interim president for Pedroza Enterprises, sat atop a big
hill. The structure was not necessarily impressive because of its size, but
rather, because of its modern multilevel architectural design and its
breathtaking panoramic view of the coast. Commissioned by the Estradas four
years ago, it was designed according to their exact specifications. A huge
kitchen, master bedroom with a spacious Jacuzzi tub, a closet larger than the
regular rooms of most mere mortals, and an art studio so that Javier’s wife
could practice her love of art. For the man of the house, a complete gym
equipped with the latest machines and a pool large enough to swim laps, his
favorite sport.
That afternoon, Javier Estrada was
finishing his routine laps when a woman stopped at the edge of the pool to
inform him of the arrival of a visitor. Javier was aware of the possibility
that Lorenzo Almeida might stop by during the day, like he had told him over
the phone, but he did not think he actually would. He had hoped that, after
interviewing Irma and Jessica, Lorenzo would find it unnecessary to visit him.
But there he was.
Javier asked the woman to let
Lorenzo in and indicated that he would receive his guest right there at the
pool. The woman went back into the house and Javier pulled himself up on one of
the pool’s rails. He walked over to a small table, dripping water as he went,
where he picked up a white towel that was laying across one of the chairs and
started to dry himself off.
Javier had an enviable physique, thanks
to the many hours he spent in the gym and to swimming on a regular basis. He
looked like the perfect model of professional success—straight out of some
social magazine. He was 44 years old, but his gray hair suggested
she had answered all of his other questions without any negative consequences.
“At least it seems like it hasn’t
affected you very much. You’re here,” commented Lorenzo in reference to the
rehearsal. He thought it would be interesting for her to explain the apparent
contradiction of participating in a dance spectacle after witnessing such a
horrible event.
“The show must go on,” she said
before pausing. “Look, I’m not going to deny that I have mixed feelings. On the
one hand, I deeply regret the loss of a partner who appreciated us enough to
invite us into his house to share and enjoy wine for a little while. But on the
other hand, I feel relieved that our job will be much easier from here on out. Everyone
knows that Pedroza was not easygoing in the office. I hate thinking and feeling
this way. I don’t like it. Certainly the others will feel something similar,
especially Javier.”
“Javier Estrada?” asked Lorenzo,
looking at his note sheet. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s one of the vice-presidents.
Now he’s heralded as the favorite to be named as the new president. Actually,
he’s acting as interim president as we speak. It looks like his dream has come
true. Certainly not in the way he imagined, though.”
“Another happy mourner?” said
Lorenzo with a measure of poorly directed sarcasm that clearly did not sit well
with Jessica.
“Don’t say that, please. Don’t say
it,” pleaded Jessica, shaking her head.
Luiggi interrupted the break with
applause.
“ Okay , time iz up guyz !
We continue or we be late. Jessica! Come up here!”
“Excuse me, but I should get back
to rehearsal. Anyway, that’s all I know. Frankly, I don’t think there’s any
other way to look at it. I’m sorry,” ended Jessica, getting up from the bench,
leaving Lorenzo sitting there, silent.
From there he could see how Jessica
climbed up on stage and firmly grasped Luiggi’s hands. As soon as the music
started, her face was transformed with radiant joy and her body broke out in
energetic movements to the salsa’s rhythm.
“The show must go on,” murmured
Lorenzo, sinking down in his seat.
Chapter 7
The mansion that served as the residence for Javier Estrada,
the recently named interim president for Pedroza Enterprises, sat atop a big
hill. The structure was not necessarily impressive because of its size, but
rather, because of its modern multilevel architectural design and its
breathtaking panoramic view of the coast. Commissioned by the Estradas four
years ago, it was designed according to their exact specifications. A huge
kitchen, master bedroom with a spacious Jacuzzi tub, a closet larger than the
regular rooms of most mere mortals, and an art studio so that Javier’s wife
could practice her love of art. For the man of the house, a complete gym
equipped with the latest machines and a pool large enough to swim laps, his
favorite sport.
That afternoon, Javier Estrada was
finishing his routine laps when a woman stopped at the edge of the pool to
inform him of the arrival of a visitor. Javier was aware of the possibility
that Lorenzo Almeida might stop by during the day, like he had told him over
the phone, but he did not think he actually would. He had hoped that, after
interviewing Irma and Jessica, Lorenzo would find it unnecessary to visit him.
But there he was.
Javier asked the woman to let
Lorenzo in and indicated that he would receive his guest right there at the
pool. The woman went back into the house and Javier pulled himself up on one of
the pool’s rails. He walked over to a small table, dripping water as he went,
where he picked up a white towel that was laying across one of the chairs and
started to dry himself off.
Javier had an enviable physique, thanks
to the many hours he spent in the gym and to swimming on a regular basis. He
looked like the perfect model of professional success—straight out of some
social magazine. He was 44 years old, but his gray hair suggested
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